ssly betrayed into them.

On the whole, therefore, the boarding-house keeper remained a problem or
a commonplace, according to the fancy of the observer. In any case, she
had grown to be a necessity, if not a popular element, in the village
society. It was in her large, rambling rooms that all the grand parties
and social celebrations took place. Was a picnic or other
pleasure-expedition in prospect, Abbie's experience and managing ability
were depended on for its success. She it was who arranged the details of
weddings; and her assistance was almost as necessary a condition of a
legitimate funeral, as that of Death himself!

Professor Valeyon drove up to the door in his wagon, got down with all
the care that the successful support of his burden of years demanded,
and chained Dolly to the much-gnawed post which was fixed for the
purpose on the edge of the sidewalk. He ascended the steps, and was met
by Abbie on the threshold. He removed his hat with old-fashioned
courtesy, and gave her cold hand a quiet, warm grasp.

"Good-morning, Abbie," said he, gruffly, but cheerfully, and with a very
kind look out of his deep-set old eyes. "Is all well with you this
morning?"

"Yes," replied she, with a faint smile, that seemed to show more of
weariness than merriment. "Come into the boudoir, Professor Valeyon.
You're a stranger."

"But that's going to be remedied--that's going to be remedied!" rejoined
the old gentleman, seating himself, and allowing his hand to wander to
the top of his head, to make sure the hair-swathe was safely in
position. "Bond of union been established between us, you know."

Abbie laid her finger upon her under lip--a common act of hers when
interested or absorbed--and looked at her caller inquiringly.

"That young fellow that came last night, sent his trunk up before coming
himself. Saw him, didn't you?"

Abbie shook her head. "I saw his trunk, but not him. Mr. Bressant, I
think. You know him?"

"He's going to study divinity with me. I take some interest in him,
though he's in an unsatisfactory condition just now; intellectual
savagery, I should call it. I take it, his training has been at fault.
Seems to have no social nor affectionate instincts. It would be a good
thing to make him feel their value, to begin with."

"I'll make it as home-like for him as I can, Professor Valeyon."

"Well, well! I meant to ask you to do it. It'll be a new experience for
him. He's never known a mother since he